


Wires

by Celestlian



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Black Male Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Post-War, Racebent, South Asian Character, s1e01 A Study in Pink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-16 21:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9289607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celestlian/pseuds/Celestlian
Summary: Just exploring if John had Afghanistan roots and Sherlock was black.





	1. Chapter 1

John was rushing with adrenaline. He'd never had so much fun (running around with a detective, Sherlock Holmes no less! Amazing! Brilliant!), ever since...

The war. 

It had destroyed him. All those months in trenches, praying to God that he would survive, and that his friends would get better and they'd all go home together, but he knew it was all in vain. 

_The bombs had gone off, and John felt unable to move himself. He did so anyway, his hands fumbling for his fallen gun. He'd found it, and he scrambled back to trench, yelling Alex's name. His friend was lost to the bomb, his guts splattered around, his mouth torn at the corners, and John wailed, but was dragged back by other soldiers. His hands shook. He stared at the dead body. Another bomb went off. The yells and screams filled his ears. He broke free, and ran forward. John Watson had never been one to look at the person he shot, but that one time, he stared straight into his eyes, past those oh-so-familiar deep brown orbs and straight into his soul..._

**_My flesh and blood..._ **

_...and shot him in the heart, killing him. John was panting, breathing hard, eyes pooling with tears as he stared at the fallen man. That had been someone he knew. And he'd killed him._

_He was dragged back to the trenches once again, and he vowed to himself never to look a man in the eye when killing him._

John's hand trembled. He steadied and pulled the trigger, killing the cab driver. Before Sherlock could look at him, he was out of the building. People put him in a blanket. "Why am I in a blanket?" The consulting detective asked in confusion, and John looked at him. Wasn't it obvious? "You're in shock. They do that to help you."

"Well, I'm not cold."

As soon as Lestrade walked up to him, Sherlock said, "go away, I'm in shock," and John stifled a laugh behind his hand, looking at the man.

There were definitely going to be a lot of adventures, that was for sure.  

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock would shoot at the wall when he was bored. But now,  _now_ he shot it out of anger. 

 _"You're not the average black man,"_  they'd said.  _"You're well-spoken."_

Well fuck, when was being well-spoken ever a 'white trait?' 

He continued to solve cases, of course.

_"That's brilliant! How did you do that?"_

John never commented on the fact that he was black, and so this eased him. Occasionally, Scotland Yard did that, and he felt disgusted. At least no one was attempting to kill him.

And then, the shootings happened in America. 

He watched and heard the news of various black men getting killed. He felt like screaming. He was afraid. He couldn't find it in him to hold a gun. However, he kept his emotions inside, appearing the same as always, but Lestrade knew better, and forced him to take the month off.

_"You need to recover. No, don't argue with me. You **do**." _

However, Sherlock was stubborn, but now, today, John had caught him in the act. 

"Sherlock, put down the gun. For God's sake, you're too emotional to be holding a gun!"

"I AM NOT EMOTIONAL!" he yelled. John stood there, and for a moment, Sherlock stared at him, and felt dread creeping up in him.

With a swift move, his companion stepped forward and wrenched the gun from Sherlock's hand.

"No more of this. No more. Understand?" 

Sherlock nodded before flopping onto the couch. He went to his mind palace. 

"Sherlock, don't think, just sleep." 

There was no answer. 

John sighed, watching his flatmate for a few moments and then walked out of the room. 

For the first time in forever, Sherlock had no nightmares about the shootings. 

 


End file.
